


For That Freedom

by literaryspell



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryspell/pseuds/literaryspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur might act like he wants to be in control—but Merlin wants nothing more than to see him lose it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For That Freedom

It wasn’t that Merlin expected his relationship with Arthur to be equal. Merlin rubbed his sore, bruised wrists and took a seat on one of the trunks in Arthur's room. His magic was whiling away at the tarnish on Arthur's second set of mail—something he'd found in the back of his closet and likely hadn't worn or even needed in years. Which made it, of course, the perfect thing for Merlin to take care of for him.

No, he did not think things would ever be equal with Arthur. There was too much between them, both in terms of caste and history.

But was it too much to ask for a little balance? _Some_ role reversal? Did he really have to be on his knees day _and_ night? Merlin grumbled to himself. Arthur would, of course, say with that satisfied little smirk, _Well, it's not as though you don't enjoy it._ And then he'd proceed to tackle Merlin to the bed, pinning his arms over his head and biting at his neck.

Merlin flushed a little and readjusted his tunic strategically.

It probably wasn’t unusual for princes and kings to demand to be called _Sire_ and _Master_ in bed. It was just what they were used to. But the way Arthur wanted it… the way he was so insistent… it made Merlin think there was more to it than keeping the proper distance between lord and servant. After all, most nights there was _no_ distance between Merlin and Arthur.

A slow smile to rival Arthur's own look of smugness stretched over Merlin's features. Merlin _did_ have power—and he didn’t mean magic. Arthur wanted him. _Him_ , over every other servant, every other person, man or woman, in Camelot. That gave Merlin a great deal of power. And he planned to use it for once.

He could sense Arthur coming long before the prince burst through his chamber doors. It was a neat trick Merlin had picked up while sleeping on Arthur's bed—a place he wasn’t supposed to be unless Arthur was there as well. It served him well now, as he leapt to his feet and grabbed up the chainmail and brush, picking up where his magic had left off.

The door swung open. "Merlin—" Arthur's eyes fell upon him and he seemed almost shocked that Merlin was there. "I've been looking all over the bloody castle for you, you imbecile!"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Next time, try the place you left me first."

Arthur raised an eyebrow and seemed to be waiting for Merlin to apologize and kiss Arthur's admittedly very nice feet, but Merlin didn’t. He rather enjoyed not meeting Arthur's expectations at times.

"My father's instructed me to collect the dues from the people of Sutton Montis. Apparently they've had good enough harvests that they can finally pay the back taxes they've owed for almost a quarter-century."

Only half-listening as Arthur went on, Merlin's mind wandered to the things Arthur so loved doing to him that Merlin would so, _so_ love doing back. The ties. The blindfolds. The demands. The almost-pain. The _control._

There was more than that, Merlin knew. And he looked forward to those things just as much: watching Arthur fall apart under him, knowing he was _safe_ ; cleaning Arthur up after, shared moments of tenderness that had no place in their lives and yet were impossible to live without now.

"Sorry, what was that?" Merlin was forced to ask a moment later when it became clear Arthur was expecting something of him.

Arthur frowned. "I said, I wish my father would trust one of my knights on matters like this. It's not necessary that I go."

They'd had the conversation before and it was doomed to go nowhere, but Merlin tried anyway. "He trusts you most, that should tell you something."

"Yes, but how can I expect to be a good king when all I know to do is collect dues and follow _his_ instructions?" Arthur sat on his bed and began tugging on the ties of his coat.

Merlin sighed and approached, getting to his knees, sore as they were, between Arthur's legs. He took Arthur's wrist and began untying the laces there. His mind refused to stray from the image of Arthur's wrist enclosed in his firm grip as he held Arthur down, made him stay still for a moment.

"You will be a good king," Merlin said. _Despite Uther._

Arthur didn’t thank him but then Merlin never expected that. To Merlin, it wasn’t a compliment anyway—it was fact.

Merlin moved to the ties at Arthur's throat. He paused when Arthur's hand touched his jaw—such a questioning touch, but it always started that way. Arthur would gain confidence as he became certain his actions were welcome. In anything else, Arthur was assertive from the start, never wavering in his surety of himself. But with this… Arthur seemed inexperienced. It was only a moment, though. Then Arthur's fingers tightened over Merlin's jaw, bringing his face up. His thumb slid over Merlin's lips.

"I don't suppose you'd want to come for the ride," Arthur said with a sly smile, obviously pleased with his double entendre.

"I've work to do for Gaius, Sire," Merlin said, lips moving around Arthur's thumb, tingling at the touch.

"Hmm," Arthur said, pulling his hand away, a signal for Merlin to continue undressing him. "Pity."

"Yes…" Merlin answered, distracted as more of Arthur's chest came into view, the crisp hairs there so familiar in sensation. His fingers brushed through them, almost an accident.

"Your presence does inspire a certain... lack of tension." In case Merlin didn’t understand, Arthur's hand moved up his own thigh to cup the bulge in his britches.

"Thank you, Sire," Merlin said, fighting not to smirk at the compliment. Yes, Arthur _did_ need him. He just had no idea how much.

Merlin slipped the tunic over Arthur's head, assailed by the smell of him released by the garment. Merlin decided he would put his plan into action rather than wait for Arthur to return from Sutton Montis. If nothing else, it would give Arthur something to think about on the long trek. He'd let Arthur lead at first, though.

Arthur stood and let Merlin draw his trousers down and off. In the nude, Arthur was every inch the king he would one day be in fact. Merlin ran his hands up Arthur's thighs, feeling the power in the muscles there, the strength. Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin's hair before gripping it in chunks and pulling Merlin against his already hard prick.

"Need this," Arthur groaned as Merlin took him into his mouth. He teased and drew out the pleasure, knowing that while Arthur did tend to prefer quick and dirty sex, he would let Merlin go at his pace for now.

"Tell me," Merlin said when he stopped to take a breath. He returned to Arthur, worshipping him in the only way he'd ever admit to.

"Wanted you when we woke up… wished there was time. Thought about you… about this. All day." Arthur grunted and there were no more words.

Merlin rose from his knees, ignoring their creaking, and guided Arthur to the bed. Yes, Arthur very much thought he was in control but the balance was shifting—the bed was on a crumbling foundation and it was up to Merlin to rebuild.

Arthur didn’t remain on his back long. He tugged Merlin down beside him and kissed him, rolling so Merlin was beneath him. Arthur's nudity against Merlin's clothing made him feel anxious, so he struggled to undress himself as Arthur continued to press hot kisses against his mouth and neck.

"Help," Merlin said, hitching his hips up to indicate Arthur should divest him of his trousers.

Arthur stared at him a long moment before grabbing the cloth and yanking it down, ripping it from his body and tossing it aside. At once he was back atop Merlin, body pressing down, the weight so satisfying Merlin almost forgot his plan.

"I've been waiting all day to take you, to fuck you… " Arthur spoke against Merlin's lips, rocking his body over Merlin, their aligned cocks moving together. "Tell me you want it."

"I want you," Merlin said, used to Arthur asking him to speak, to describe how everything felt. He grabbed the back of Arthur's neck and squeezed, smiling when Arthur moaned and dropped his head down on Merlin's shoulder. He might act like he enjoyed being in control, but Merlin needed to see him lose it. "I _want you_ ," he said more insistently, the words pointed. Arthur went to lift his head but Merlin held him there and pushed him onto his back.

He gave Arthur a half-second to rebel before straddling him. Arthur looked like he wanted to speak, but then Merlin had a hand around their cocks, stroking slow and awkward together, and Arthur seemed to lose the need to speak.

"Tell _me_ you want it," Merlin said, making his tone commanding even if it tasted unfamiliar in his mouth. His eyes met Arthur's and held. He watched the struggle there, the contempt that was leeching away even as Arthur struggled to hold onto it.

"Merlin," Arthur said, in that voice that was supposed to make Merlin feel small and stupid and even though it sometimes worked, at this moment, Merlin was in control.

"What is it?" he asked. He moved his hand from their pricks and smoothed it over Arthur's body. Muscles clenched and trembled under his fingers, tiny rebellions that Merlin eased as he caressed Arthur's chest, his shoulder, up his arms to his wrist and _holding._

It was the moment Merlin knew would change everything. If Arthur jerked his arm away from Merlin's hold, Merlin would offer a self-deprecating chuckle and say something like, 'Just thought I'd give it a try.' And then Arthur would shake his head at him and flip him over—and Arthur would take him and it would be amazing because sex with Arthur always was… but it wouldn’t be what they _really_ wanted.

On the other hand, if Arthur let Merlin hold him down, let Merlin own him for that moment, the balance would shift and Merlin would have to earn the right to stay on top.

For long moments, Arthur didn’t look like he was going to go down either road. He glared up at Merlin not with anger, but with fear and some confusion in his eyes as if it had genuinely never occurred to him to do things this way. He didn’t try to move or unseat Merlin, but he was tensed as if for a fight.

Merlin took the chance and leaned in, slow, to press a kiss against Arthur's lips. Kissing Arthur almost made Merlin want to give up, to release Arthur and lie back, belly bared and legs open for whatever Arthur wanted to do to him. The urge was great—but not greater than the desire to see Arthur fall apart.

Arthur gave in to the kiss and the rest of his body followed his lips. The arm under Merlin's hold lost its rigidity, sinking into the bed under Merlin's weight. Arthur's other hand—one that would normally be buried in Merlin's hair or grabbing at his arse—was motionless on the bed beside him.

"Okay?" Merlin whispered, needing just one instance of vocal confirmation.

Arthur didn’t answer, denying Merlin even that, but he turned his head to the side and nodded, a brusque movement that revealed he was uncomfortable with what was happening but not wholeheartedly against it.

Moving in increments, Merlin took Arthur's other hand and brought it up over his head as well. He held both wrists in one hand—a hold Arthur could easily break and they both knew it. But this wasn’t about strength—it was about power. Now Arthur would be able to tell the difference.

With only the tiniest assistance from his magic, Merlin wound a length of silk he'd found in Arthur's bureau and stuffed beneath the pillows around his wrists, binding them together and to the headboard.

Again, it seemed like Arthur would rebel, would fight against Merlin until they were each back in their _places._ To quell the urge he saw rising in Arthur's eyes, Merlin kissed him, harder than he'd ever been brave enough to do before. He increased the pressure until Arthur's lips were grinding hard against his own teeth and the smallest sound of almost-protest escaped him.

Between them, Arthur's cock was hard and straining, his hips moving restlessly. Merlin reached down and gripped it, stroking a few times before pressing it against Arthur's belly.

"Don't come," Merlin said, the first order he could remember giving in bed with Arthur. Arthur just looked at him, sucking in short breaths of air as Merlin's hand flew over his cock. Arthur's precome slicked him and Merlin knew the attention would be too much for Arthur, who wasn’t used to not giving in to his body's needs.

"Fuck, Merlin—"

"Hush," Merlin said. He put his hand over Arthur's mouth, his other hand still fisting Arthur's cock. Arthur's arms strained in their bonds but while he seemed angry, there was no mistaking the way his prick responded to Merlin's actions.

Leaning down, hand still stifling Arthur's sounds, Merlin licked one of Arthur's small nipples, biting it once it swelled to firmness. Arthur groaned and arched, and Merlin smiled down at him, pleased. He teased Arthur's nipples, alternating between gentle laves and harsh nips until Arthur was a writhing mess beneath him.

Arthur licked Merlin's hand, his eyes no longer angry but no less impassioned. Merlin's own cock throbbed as he pulled his hand back, only to slip two fingers past Arthur's parted lips. Arthur immediately began sucking and licking them, even moving his head to simulate more intimate acts.

Seeing Arthur in abandon like that was too much for Merlin. He reached behind himself and stretched his hole, using magic to slick himself. Arthur watched him hungrily, biting at Merlin's fingers to show his displeasure at not being able to stretch Merlin. Merlin just smiled at him as he rose up over his dick.

"Don't come, remember," Merlin said, pausing until Arthur nodded. Seeing Arthur accept his instruction like that was unequalled. All the magic coursing through him seemed irrelevant in comparison to Arthur's acquiescence.

He teased both Arthur and himself, rubbing Arthur's dick over his hole before finally sinking down, biting back his words as Arthur spread him, stretched him. He sat back until Arthur's groin was tight against his arse. Once settled, he paused, tweaking Arthur's nipples, pinching his full lower lip, scratching his short nails over the sensitive skin on the insides of Arthur's arms. Arthur took it all, his only movement in his hips, stunted little jerks that told Merlin his control was tenuous.

"Stop, Arthur," Merlin said when Arthur's thrusts tried to change his rhythm. Arthur groaned but did as Merlin said. He looked like he wanted to speak but he didn’t. Merlin began to move, rising up and almost off Arthur's cock before plunging back down, each time earning a strangled sound from Arthur. Then he moved more quickly, only drawing an inch or so up before slamming back down—Arthur's cock drove over his prostate and he could feel himself getting closer.

Merlin grabbed Arthur's hands, still bound to the headboard, and rode Arthur harder. Arthur's countenance was that of a man just barely holding himself back—but the fact that he _was_ , that he was letting Merlin _take_ pleasure from him, made Merlin gasp out. His cock began to spurt, untouched, and he grabbed it and stroked himself hard as his orgasm knocked the breath from him.

"Merlin," Arthur bit out, sweat beading on his upper lip. Merlin knew he was trying not to come—he knew the contractions of his hole had to be driving Arthur mad, but he didn’t come.

"It's okay, I want you to come," Merlin said, half wishing he'd been able to draw it out longer.

At his words, Arthur bit off a shout and thrust up hard enough that Merlin almost lost his seat. Arthur seemed to come forever before he sagged down, his body losing all tension.

Merlin admitted to himself that he was a little nervous, now that everything was over. Would Arthur be furious? Would he have Merlin put in the stocks—or worse? But he needn’t have worried. He'd barely untied Arthur's hands before Arthur was snoring. Merlin smiled, relieved and more sated than he could ever remember being. He brushed the damp hair from Arthur's forehead and kissed him, tender in a way Arthur would never permit while awake.

*

Merlin's head perked up when he sensed Arthur coming. He had just enough notice to cancel the spells that had a mop swirling in one corner and clothes folding on the bed. He picked up one of Arthur's tunics and busied himself folding it when Arthur walked in the chambers.

"Ah, here you are," Arthur said, his eyes bright.

Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Right where you told me to be."

Waving him off, Arthur announced, "I'm not going to Sutton Montis. " He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself.

"Oh?" Merlin asked. He was determined not to give Arthur a big head but he was proud of the way the prince had been carrying himself lately.

Arthur nodded and sat on the bed, tipping one of the laundry piles. Merlin's nose twitched in agitation.

"Father's sending knights instead. I finally convinced him I could be of better use than errand boy."

Merlin just nodded, a small smile on his lips. Arthur lay back on the bed, arms above his head. Merlin's mouth went dry as his mind cast back to Arthur, bound, naked, Merlin's fingers in his mouth.

"Well?" Arthur rocked his hips. "Congratulate me."

Merlin laughed and crawled over the laundry—his magic would take care of it later. "Congratulations, Sire," he said before biting Arthur's neck. "Now, be quiet."

 

_The end._

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
